Free
by ajyrrwsa
Summary: Now a novelist and a nomad, Margaret Dashwood is returning home for Christmas, while her family eagerly awaits her return. She has proudly declared herself a spinster and vows to live the rest of her life traveling. She is determined that nothing can change her plans until she encounters the irritatingly frank Lord Alexander Allstone at her sister's ball.
1. Chapter 1

_October 25, 1804_

_My Dear Sister,_

_First, I must apologize for the meager contents of this letter. We are a day from docking in the Bahamas and I am not prepared. My petticoats lay everywhere but in their proper place. _

_I write to you as I gaze through my port hole at the endless ocean. We have been at sea for three weeks now and I can say with certainty that this absolutely the most abhorrent part of my travels. But what am I to do? How else does one make it off of our tiny island? I find myself saying again that this will be my last journey, that once I am home I shall never leave it, but, of course in my ever-changing ways, I've confirmed my plans for India in February. I cannot bare the thought of spending an entire winter in England. _

_Your plan to stay with Marianne until Christmas is most agreeable. I do long to see you all, but I would go mad if I were to stay with Mama at Barton Cottage for an entire month alone having no other occupation but to walk the Downs. I must beg you and Edward to accept me for at least two weeks and you cannot say no because I've already promised my niece that my visit to would be a long one._

_And, no, sweet and patient Elinor, my next novel is not complete and you know I will never let you see a single word until all of them have been written down. Please do not endeavour to ask me again. _

_Remind Marianne that she is perfect and strong and that she will have this baby, because I demand to meet my new niece or nephew while I am there._

_Remind Mama that I will never marry, because I refuse to give up my freedom and I will travel forever so long as my pen can produce an income._

_They listen to you._

_Your favourite sister,_

_Margaret Dashwood_


	2. Chapter 2

Elinor Ferrars watched her husband practice his sermon from her seat near the fire. He paced nervously as he usually did trying to make every word perfect. She admired the passion he had for his work and never tired of seeing him triumph when he felt satisfied with what he'd written. Indeed, this was an important time of year for any vicar. The Christmas season was a time to inspire peace and generosity among men through the cold winter. And that year was particularly special for the entire family as her sister, Margaret, would be with them for the first time in two years and it would be her first Christmas in England in five.

Georgie, Elinor's oldest son held Margaret's letter carefully in his hand as he read it through for the tenth time. No day was better than when a new letter arrived with Margaret's insignia. Georgie insisted on reading every message from his favourite aunt even if it wasn't addressed to him.

The twins, Anne and Mary, were fast asleep on the rug. They'd had a long day mucking about in the garden while their Papa was away at church.

And finally, little Richard sat near his mother's feet happily playing with one of Georgie's old toys.

"I've finished, Mama," Georgie said placing the letter carefully into his mother's hand. "When will she be here?"

"No sooner than December, dearest, if the weather is forgiving."

"Could we go to Delaford before then so we're there when she arrives?"

"I shall ask your aunt when I write to her next, but now…" Elinor stood and her husband fell silent. "It is time for bed."

"Yes, Mama." Georgie pulled his little brother to his feet and held his hand as he led him to the stairs.

Elinor took Anne in her arms and Edward took Mary.

"I was hoping," Edward whispered as they lay the girls in their beds, "That Margaret would return before the Christmas season."

Elinor followed Edward from the room and closed the door gently. "I am disappointed that she couldn't come sooner, but she is never happy during extended stays here."

Elinor had always known Barton Cottage would never be able to hold Margaret. Her thoughts were too grand to be contained within the bounds of her homeland, but she had never become accustomed to her being so far out of reach.

"We'll be together again," she reminded Edward. "Even if it's for a short time."

Edward smiled.

* * *

Marianne Brandon stared at the piano keys indifferently. Her passion for music had waned over the years as her desire for a family and her inability to produce one became the center of her focus. She played only at the request of her husband, convinced that it was the only way in which she could bring him joy.

She was only one month from her confinement, but she had been there too many times before to let herself feel anything other than despair over the outcome. Three babies had been born dead. What would be different with the one currently in her womb?

However, she promised Margaret a small concert in honour of her return, so she must practice. And though the notes, once pure and full emotion, fell flat and lifeless on her ears, she let her fingers move expertly across the keys.

"Lovely, my dear," Brandon said entering the room.

"Is it?" replied Marianne as she tried to fix a smile on to her face. The colonel was never short of compliments even after all they'd been through.

"Your family would love to hear you play again. Indeed the Middletons have also expressed a wish to hear you sing."

"Play, I must," Marianne said thinking of her sisters. "But I fear I no longer have the heart to sing."

Colonel Brandon circled the piano so he could take her hand. "Whatever happens, my dear, I shall never stop loving you. You are all I need."

Marianne wished she could believe him, but found it impossible to allow herself think of hope or love or the future, but she smiled again not wishing to plague her husband's heart with the woes that weighed on her shoulders.


	3. Chapter 3

Fanny Dashwood loathed nothing more than being forced into the company of her lowly relations. Her brother Robert was abroad. Her son Henry would be away at school for another fortnight and her mother had inconveniently died a month earlier. So, with no other obligations, she was forced to leave Norland to spend an evening in Delaford with her husband.

As their carriage rode toward the house, she admitted to herself that Marianne had married well in spite of expectations, certainly better than her sister, Elinor.

It pained Fanny to think of her brother living as a simple country curate with no money and no connections. To have such a relation was deeply disagreeable, but at least she could boast an acquaintance in Delaford. Indeed, such a connection was held in great esteem in all of society.

Fanny did share a few acceptable connections with Colonel Brandon, so she didn't feel entirely uncomfortable in the mixed party. She consorted with Mrs. Allen, a wealthy widow with considerable property. Her husband had been in trade, so she was of low birth, but her daughter had recently married a Duke. Fanny found her company to be agreeable.

They commented on the party, their dress and manner, and found fewer than six people with whom they considered well-bred.

"I found the food tolerable, I daresay," said Mrs. Allen, "But the cook obviously lacks in classical training."

"Oh, I agree," replied Fanny. "The hollandaise was far too loose and did nothing to compliment the vegetables."

"And who is that wild creature with Lady Brandon? Her robe is dreadful and look at the state of her hair!"

Fanny searched the room for her next subject of ridicule. Mrs. Allen had been referring to Fanny's sister-in-law, Margaret Dashwood.

Fanny lowered her voice and turned toward Mrs. Allen so that she might not be observed as she spoke.

"That is the young Miss Dashwood. Well, no longer young, I daresay. She must be above five and twenty and she is unmarried."

"She is obviously unmarried. Who would have such classless woman as a wife? How queer she is! Look at how she averts her eyes when she is addressed."

"She has always been an untamed creature. It is a wonder she has an education at all, though I must tell you that she is a novelist. She publishes under a nom-de-plume to avoid recognition. Apparently she makes a living of around one hundred pounds a year, which is nothing for a truly successful writer, but enough to fund her travels. She is rarely in England, traveling alone to any jungle that will allow her passage, which explains her under-developed manner."

"Travels alone? The impertinence! A lady - well, she is no lady - but a girl traveling alone must be devoid of all virtue. It is right that she isn't married and she never will."

"Indeed, she has declared herself spinster on many occasion. It is vexing to have such relations."

"It is truly terrible, my dear Mrs. Dashwood. How do you bare it?"

"I do not bare it. That is my husband's responsibility and his alone."

Their conversation moved to the music as Marianne began to play her piano forte.

* * *

Margaret had assumed the party at Delaford would be one that consisted only of her family and close friends, but Colonel Brandon had given Sir John Middleton far too much freedom with invitations and Marianne had been in no position to argue so close to her confinement.

Margaret stayed close to her mother and sisters and the majority of her conversation was with her nephew, Georgie. She detested large parties, but found no opportunity to escape.

Further, Mrs. Dashwood would never truly end her mission to see her last daughter happily married and settled. There were quite a few eligible young men with whom Margaret could make an acquaintance.

"Mama, I beg you, please do not," Elinor said before Mrs. Dashwood could introduce Margaret to a Mr. Smith, a banker in London. "You know Margaret will not wish it."

"She cannot object to Mr. Smith. He is based in London and has no aversion to travel and…"

"Look at her. See how uncomfortable she is now with just her brother. She is still weary from her journey. Let her rest and then you may introduce her to any gentleman you wish."

"She will be off the continent before she relaxes."

Elinor smiled at her mother. "Precisely, Mama."

* * *

"Please don't leave my side, brother," Margaret said to Edward. "I'm safe so long as you are here."

"Safe?" Edward laughed. "Have you not encountered wolves and bears in the Americas? Surely, you don't fear your friends."

"These are not friends and you know they are not."

"I declare that I will not leave your side, but I must confess I have already promised an introduction."

Margaret was filled with dread. "An introduction? Who would want to be introduced to me?" She had been away for two years. Surely there would be no one there that was aware of her existence outside of her own family.

Edward turned. "That gentleman there is a friend of Sir John, I believe."

Margaret knew immediately to whom Edward was referring. The gentleman in question was Lord Alexander Allstone of Brightonshire. Margaret had made an acquaintance of sorts with him while she was in the Orient.

* * *

_She was in the dining room of her lodgings - expertly chosen so she would encounter the fewest number Englishman - when Lord Allstone was seated at a table very near her own. They did not speak, but when Margaret decided to retire Allstone followed her out of the dining room._

_"Forgive me, madam, but are you here alone?"_

_"I am."_

_"Where is your chaperone?"_

_Margaret had been surprised by his forwardness, but answered with equal frankness. "I do not have an escort, sir. I am alone."_

_"A lady cannot travel alone. It is much too dangerous and you must allow me to see you home safely."_

_"Pray, what is your name, sir?"_

_Lord Allstone remembered his manors and bowed. "Lord Alexander Allstone, at your service."_

_"I'm afraid, Lord Allstone that I will be in the Orient for at least three months. I could not possibly ask you to change your journey so drastically. Good day, sir."_

_"I say again, madam, that a woman may not travel alone, especially someone as becoming as yourself. You will surely damage your reputation."_

_Margaret was unmoved by the compliment. "By the same convention, a woman should never travel with a strange men and this conversation would be considered an impertinence. What would happen to my reputation then? You are scarcely older than I and you travel alone. Why shouldn't I?"_

_And with that Margaret stormed to her room almost frightened that the strange man would follow._

* * *

She'd learned his name from the lodging director and made a point to never be in the dining room when he was scheduled to be there. She never saw him again and had almost forgotten him until her first night at Delaford.

"I do not wish to be introduced to him," she told Edward.

"It would be rude to not speak to him, since he has asked for you by name."

"Brother, I thought surely you of all people would understand how intolerable it is to meet new people especially those for whom you have little regard."

"Little regard? You do not know him, Meg. I found him to be a cheerful, amiable sort of fellow. Maybe a bit too honest and self-aware, I daresay, but there is far too little of those qualities in polite society. No, you will be introduced and you will thank me, for I believe even you will find him clever enough for good company."

Margaret hurried to Elinor's side. If an introduction was unavoidable, her sister would save her from her own awkwardness.

"Whatever is the matter, my dear?" her mother asked, alarmed. Margaret had nearly knocked Elinor into a wall in a failed attempt at discretion. She quickly made notice of the approach of Elinor's husband and Lord Allstone.

"Behave, Meg," Elinor whispered as the gentlemen joined them.

"Lord Allstone, allow me to introduce my wife, Elinor, her mother, Mrs. Dashwood, and her sister Miss Margaret Dashwood. My dears, may I present Lord Alexander Allstone."

"It is a pleasure," Mrs. Dashwood said.

"The pleasure is all mine, madam," Lord Allstone replied. He took her hand and kissed it.

"What brings you to Devonshire, Lord Allstone?" asked Elinor.

"I've come with Captain Sharp's party. I am his brother-in-law. I believe you share a connection to him with Sir John."

"Oh, then I am surprised we have not yet made his acquaintance," Elinor replied.

"How are you enjoying the society, Lord Allstone," inquired Mrs. Dashwood.

"I'm afraid I'm not one for large gatherings. I much prefer an intimate affair. However, when I realised the connection between my family and yours, I felt inclined to join you all. You see, I have spent the last six month in search of a young lady I found quite on her own in China. I wanted to see with my own eyes that she was alive and well, since she refused my assistance at our first meeting."

He bowed his head toward Margaret, so the group would understand to whom he was referring.

"I'm sorry, Lord Allstone," Mrs. Dashwood exclaimed. "Margaret never told me that you'd met."

"Propriety requires Miss Dashwood to exclude me from her tales from overseas as ours was not a true meeting."

The eyes of Mrs. Dashwood, Elinor, and Edward fell on Margaret as they awaited a response.

"I'm pleased to make your acquaintance officially, sir." She bowed her head so that her eyes would not meet his. "Thank you for inquiring after my well-being."

She spoke without spirit or interest in her words, which Elinor noted wasn't entirely out of character around unfamiliar persons.

"I must apologize for my sister, Lord Allstone. She is quite reserved around strangers."

Lord Allstone laughed without restraint. Margaret had been well spoken and sure of herself at their first meeting.

"This was not my impression of Miss Dashwood. She spoke with such energy that I found myself quite at a loss for words, quite frightened of her, I daresay."

"Frightened of me?" Margaret said her eyes now sparkling and wholly focused on Lord Allstone. "Had it not been for the manner in which you approached me, I might have found myself more guarded. As it is, I do not know how to respond to such a frankness of address as yours, Lord Allstone."

Mrs. Dashwood, surprised at the lack of civility in her daughter's tone, quickly changed the subject to the weather and roads. Margaret used this as an opportunity to escape before anyone noticed how flushed she'd become.

Lord Allstone watched as Margaret disappeared from the room. Were it not for the thickness of the crowd, she might have run.


	4. Chapter 4

The letters arrived the next morning at breakfast and Margaret had the pleasure of receiving two: one from her dear friend in New York and the other from her publisher in London. The first bore general news: preparation for Christmas parties, the weather, inquiries of health, and so on. The second contained the excellent news that her publisher had accepted her latest novel and his next correspondence would contain the first part of her payment.

"Well done, Miss Margaret," exclaimed Sir John. "Dear Mrs. Jennings always said you would be the Dashwood to distinguish herself what with two sensible and intelligent older sisters to guide you."

"I must tell Marianne at once," said Margaret who hurried out of the room before Sir John could ask anymore questions or make anymore exclamation.

Margaret found her sisters in Marianne's room talking of the events of the night past. Marianne looked well, much better than she had at Margaret's arrival. There was color in her cheeks and her eyes no longer appeared hollow and her expression possessed much more felicity than it had, which was not a large feat as Margaret had never seen Marianne's eye so grey as she had a day earlier.

"And about what are we laughing?" Margaret said sitting on the bed near Marianne. Elinor was seated in the chair near the window.

"I've just seen Anne outrun poor George," Elinor replied watching her children with unabashed delight. "He is not happy."

Margaret joined her sister at the window for a moment to see Georgie hitting a stick repeatedly against a tree in anger. Then she returned to the bed.

"They have grown so much," Margaret said. "I hardly recognise them." Margaret took Marianne's hand and held it. "How are you?"

Marianne smiled which filled both Margaret and Elinor with warmth.

"I'd thought a large gathering would fatigue me," Marianne replied, "But I feel brighter than I have in months. I'm so happy to have you all with me."

"I'm happy to be here," Marianne said. "I do not believe I could wait a day longer to meet my - do you think it will be a girl or a boy?"

Marianne's eyes lowered. "I haven't considered it, in case…"

"Hush," Margaret said fearful her sister's depression would return. "Indeed, I come with news from London. My publisher has ordered my novel to print."

"That's marvelous, Margaret," said Elinor.

"Really, Meg, Elinor talks of nothing else to anybody but George, Mary, Anne, Richard, and the novels of Mr. Mayhew Dishworth."

They all delighted over the silly name Margaret had chosen as her disguise.

"We are very proud of you, Meg," Marianne said. "We will never be used to you being away, but we will sing your praises to anyone who listens."

"And often to those who won't," Elinor added as she read Margaret's letter.

* * *

The weather that day permitted a walk through the gardens of Delaford. After a quick race with her nieces and nephews, Margaret settled under the shade of a tree with the house in full view. With her novel complete she could begin afresh abroad and in her imagination. She considered for a moment how blessed she was to have the talent for writing and the will to do it in the face of ridicule from her peers. She'd known very early, even before her sister's marriages, that she would never be able to fill the role of a respectable woman. There were too many things in the world with which to divert herself to be confined in a set of rules even as stringent as those that governed servants.

Her mind wandered to the village in Italy where she lived when she was no more than twenty. The bright sun, the warm air, the music in the way the language was spoken, the aroma and the taste of the food, the passion that simply burst from every part of the country. She knew that she would only return for her family and that there was nothing and there would never be anything else in England to keep her. She inhaled the damp air and opened her writing pad to a blank page.

"Good Morning, Miss Dashwood." A voice full of life pulled her from her thoughts. She looked over her shoulder to see Lord Allstone standing nearby.

She stood reluctantly. "Hello, Lord Allstone."

"Please call me, Alexander."

Margaret swallowed. "Alexander."

Lord Allstone smiled. "Is your mother receiving guests this morning?"

Margaret surprised at his request for her mother stumbled over her reply.

"Come, come Miss Dashwood. This will not do. We are friends, are we not? We must address each other as such."

"My mother is available, Lord…Alexander."

He held out his arm. "Will you do me the honour of walking there with me?"

Margaret glanced at her paper and pencil.

"Oh, I've interrupted."

"No!" Margaret said a little too loudly. She feared he would discover that she was a writer. She detested the idea of him reading her words knowing she'd written them. She took his arm and they traversed that path to the house slowly.

She took a moment of silence to consider the effect Lord Allstone had on her. He was handsome to be sure, and well spoken, and he'd been abroad, but Margaret had met such men during her travels and none sent her into a nervous tizzy the way Lord Allstone seemed to do. She attributed this to the ease with which he spoke to her and how he considered them "friends" after only two very poor meetings. Why he would request her company at all was a source of confusion for Margaret.

"Will you be in Delaford long, Miss Dashwood?"

"Forgive me," she said slowly so she could form a proper response. "Your question is relative. I could answer yes as spending more than a fortnight here - and I will be here a month - would be considerably more than the amount of time I spend in England at all. I could also answer no as my sister's baby will be here soon and I'm not sure I'll be here long enough to enjoy him."

"I see," replied Allstone, "And are you still determined to continue your travels alone?"

"I may leave on my own, sir, but I am never alone when I am abroad. Sir John seems to have relatives and friends in every part of the world. I assure you I am well looked after."

"I'm glad to hear it."

"Are you enjoying Devonshire?"

Allstone held Margaret's gaze as he replied. "Immensely. I find the country here to be very diverting and I have been looking forward to becoming more familiar with you."

"Pray don't waste your time on that score. There is very nothing interesting about me."

"There is no one in the world who would believe that Miss Dashwood."

Margaret stopped walking and pulled her arm from Lord Allstone. "I'm afraid I can walk with you no further, sir." George was calling her name and she could no longer endure the candid conversation with a man who a day before was a complete stranger.

"I've scared you off again."

"No, sir," she mumbled and then curtsied. "Good day."

Margaret decided at that moment that she desired nothing less than the company of Lord Allstone. She didn't dislike him. She found Edward's assessment of him apt, but Margaret was not used to attention of that nature - if she wasn't mistaken in his regard for her - but she could not reciprocate.

Or she feared that one day she could.


	5. Chapter 5

The household of Delaford spent the morning of Christmas Eve in a silent and nervous anticipation. Marianne's baby was coming and all anyone could do was sit and wait. Elinor and Mrs. Dashwood were the only two of the party absent from the drawing room. They were assisting the doctor in Marianne's chambers. Colonel Brandon could not be still. He paced relentlessly, his complexion as white as a ghost. Richard sat unaffected in a corner playing with a small piece of wood. George, Anne, and Mary played cards. Edward sat near the fire, his leg shaking violently. Margaret stood impatiently near the door. She would be the first of them to receive the message when her mother or Elinor returned to the drawing room.

There was snow that day, the first fall of the season. Delaford glittered brilliantly making the grounds as picturesque as ever, but no one noticed. No one could break their attention from Marianne's wails of pain.

"This is taking too long," Mary cried impatiently as George dealt another hand.

"Quiet," Margaret said unable to bare Mary's voice. She was trying to focus on any changes in the sounds that echoed through Delaford.

Suddenly, there was quiet. Colonel Brandon, Edward, and Margaret all stopped breathing as they looked to each other for an answer. Before any of them could utter a single world the door opened and Elinor appeared to only Margaret.

Margaret's heart filled with joy at the sight of the smile on her sister's face. At the same moment the cries of a new baby could be heard. The room took a collective sigh of relief as Colonel Brandon rushed out the room to attend his wife.

"It's a boy," Elinor said taking Margaret's hands in hers, "It's a healthy, beautiful boy."

Tears rolled down both of there faces, both of them completely unable to find words to express their joy. It was truly a triumphant day for the entire family.

"What is his name?" Anne asked.

"She hasn't chosen one yet," replied Elinor.

"I want to see him now," declared Mary, but was told to be patient. Both mother and baby needed rest.

* * *

In celebration of the birth of Henry Elliot Brandon and of the health of the mother, Sir John was to hold a grand dinner at Barton Park. The truth of the matter was that Sir John never needed a celebration to call for a grand dinner, but he found that people were more receptive of invitations if there was some reason attached to them.

No one in Delaford desired to spend an evening at Barton Park, with little Henry was so newly arrived. Margaret certainly wanted to stay as close to her sister as possible, but Mrs. Dashwood told her that it would be best to leave mother, father, and baby alone to rest from the preceding, long and arduous and emotional weeks.

Everyone was to attend Barton Park.

In addition to the party from Delaford, Sir John had invited his good friend, Captain Sharp, and his family as they were to be in Devonshire for five nights hence. The Palmers were also to attend, sending the total number of guests including the children to over thirty. The dinner was thus to become a ball with music from the piano forte provided by the classically trained Mrs. Sharp.

Neither Elinor nor Margaret were in a mood for the merriment of a ball with their thoughts so fixed on their sister. They spent the majority of their time at Barton Park seated in chairs closest to the door speaking in very low voices so it would appear that they were speaking of something of great importance. If they continued in that attitude, others would be less inclined to dance with them and if there were few available partners the event would end early.

But Lord Allstone would not be deterred. He had discovered news of Miss Dashwood and desired a laugh at her reaction to his knowing. Lord Allstone found Margaret's ferociousness in speech unlike any, except his own dear aunt who had raised him in Brighton Manor since his early childhood.

"Mrs. Ferrars, Miss Dashwood," he said to them. "Congratulations to your sister and Colonel Brandon. May they be ever blessed with happy days such as these."

The two ladies stood reluctantly to greet the gentleman.

"Thank you, sir," Elinor said. "I will pass to them your good tidings."

Allstone's eyes fell onto Maragaret. "You look well this evening, Miss Dashwood."

"Thank you, sir," Margaret replied.

"Now let's see here," Sir John cried from across the room. He was quick to join them. "I must know what your saying. Mrs. Ferrars and Miss Dashwood have been sharing secrets and you must know them by now Allstone. I demand you share."

"Indeed, I do not know what the ladies were discussing. I was just giving congratulations to their sister."

"And complimenting, Miss Dashwood, I daresay. And there is no use in denying it. If Mrs. Jennings were here - rest her soul - she would have it out of you Allstone. She would know your preference for Miss Dashwood. However, your choice here is a difficult one, I'm afraid. Miss Dashwood is famously cold to members of our sex who aren't her relations."

"And for good reason, I'm sure," replied Allstone. "A lady with muscles such as hers could have no use for a man at all."

Sir John laughed heartily at the discovery of Margaret's arms which were indeed much too muscular for a woman, a result of months traversing through thick forests and climbing over mountains.

He merrily joined the Palmers to bring their attention to Margaret whose face was now as red as the reddest strawberry.

Elinor took her sister's hand to steady her, but would soon have to release it.

"May I have this dance , Miss Dashwood?" asked Allstone to the surprise of both of the ladies present.

"No," was Margaret's immediate response. A lady in New York would not have been required to dance with a man who'd just so completely embarrassed her in front of the one person who would make a joke of it at every gathering for the rest of her life, because surely he would out live her.

"Meg," Elinor scolded sharply. It had been far too often that Margaret had chosen her emotions over propriety. Being abroad may have strengthened her mind, but it did nothing for the improvement of her manners.

"No," Meg repeated slowly remembering herself. "You may have the next, sir, as this one will soon end."

As the next dance began Margaret was led to her place by Allstone, who, if he'd been shaken by her initial response, showed no signs of it. He was all charm and grace with a smile fixed firmly on his face as the music began.

"I've upset you yet again, Miss Dashwood," Allstone said. "See here, you are not even enjoying this dance."

"You've declared us friends, Alexander, have you not? You must call me Margaret since we are now so intimately acquainted."

"Or," Allstone said with a mischievous grin, "I could call you Mr. Dishworth, if you prefer."

Margaret, who had already used her energy to speak with the last bit of civility she possessed, almost froze completely during her step, but was moved again by Allstone who pulled her into the correct position.

"Very good," Margaret said trying bury in any appearance of ignominy, "You've found me out. I do wonder how you came upon the information."

"Yours is not a well kept secret, I'm afraid. I heard it from George Ferrars in town yesterday."

Margaret could not be angry. Georgie did not know that her identity was meant to be a secret. "Well, go on, then," she said, "Shower me with your unwarranted praise."

"Indeed, I have none on this occasion. On the contrary I found your first novel - Albert's List, I believe - to be simply a bore. I have very little interest in reading the other three you've written."

These comments struck Margaret who'd become suddenly disheartened to hear of his disapproval for something for which she held such pride.

"Pray, tell me what displeased you?"

"Well, it was the hero, Albert. He never refrained from expressing his trepidation during his journey. Is not a hero to be strong, formidable, unafraid, and unyielding to earn the word? Albert possessed none of these qualities. Intelligent to be sure, but cleverness makes not a hero."

Margaret laughed at the basic and predictable critique from Lord Allstone. Those were the same criticisms Margaret was given when she first sent the novel to her publisher over seven years earlier.

"Your opinion of a hero is a fantastical one."

Allstone scoffed. "Does not Lord Dishworth write of dragons and fairies and sea monsters with the ability to speak perfect English?"

"I admit that the world in which Albert lives is one of fantasy, but his character, and those of his companions, are true representations of man. Albert completed all of the tasks on his list in spite of fears. Is that not a more accurate example of bravery? I would certainly prefer a man who was aware of his feelings and his circumstances, but was also prepared to overcome them to a man who blindly enters into any endeavour with absolutely no consideration of the consequences."

Allstone, expecting to delight in Margaret's frustration over his disapproval found himself speechless under the command of her explanation. He had utterly underestimated her ability to maintain composure in the face of ridicule.

"I say, Miss Dashwood. I cannot respond to that. I fear I was too quick to judge and did not appreciate the complexity of your story and of _your _character."

"My character? I do not understand. What is there to interest you in my character?" But Margaret would receive no reply that night. The music had ended and after a bow Lord Allstone disappeared, leaving the dance as flushed as Margaret had entered it.


	6. Chapter 6

Elinor was the first to notice an attachment between Margaret and Lord Allstone, even if Margaret was unaware of it herself. Too often, Elinor had seen Margaret reject the attentions of a potential suitor, so often in fact that Elinor almost didn't recognise the signs of affection between the pair. Indeed, it was a queer sort of connection, one where Margaret almost always began a conversation with him on her guard and invariably ended it with a jolt in spirit she would otherwise show only for her stories or her travels. Allstone, too, seemed drawn to the dramatic ebb and flow of their interactions for he spent much of his time in Devonshire in pursuit of either Margaret's company or information of her character. It had been twice that Allstone spoke with Elinor and Edward alone only to discuss her youngest sister. Elinor was also made aware that even more conversations of a similar nature were had between Allstone and Mrs. Dashwood.

Elinor found nothing exactly wrong with Lord Allstone's character or manners, but he did seem to delight in teasing Margaret with his sharp honesty and that alone was enough to cause worry. Though there was little chance of Margaret ever allowing a romantic attachment to any man, there was still a chance.

During her last night in Delaford, the family was enjoying each other's society in the drawing room after dinner. Both Elinor and Colonel Brandon had spent much of the time sitting near the fire observing Marianne as she played cards with Georgie, Anne, and Mary.

Marianne was the happiest she'd been since the day she and the colonel were wed, her mood was completely altered since the birth of her child, and the house simply burst at the seams with her joy.

Margaret was sitting in a corner near a window scribbling on paper what Elinor knew to be the beginnings of her next story. Her eyes were bright and full of life as her hand moved efficiently across her paper.

"Colonel," Elinor said quietly as to not startle Colonel Brandon from the trance in which Marianne had fixed him.

His eyes fell onto Elinor with a smile.

"Has Captain Sharp left the country?" asked Elinor.

The colonel still not fully lifted from his daze took a moment to consider the question.

"Yes, I believe he has. His family will spend the remainder of the winter in London."

"And has the entire party gone with him?"

Elinor had finally gathered the colonel's full attention.

"May I assume that your interest is not with Captain's party, but with his brother-in-law?"

Elinor smiled. "I confess it is."

"Then I must tell you that Allstone too has left, though, to where, I am not sure."

This brought some comfort to Elinor. She was to leave Delaford and return home in the morning. If Allstone had left Devonshire she wouldn't have to preoccupy herself with the interactions between him and Margaret.

"Your sister possesses some of your good sense, Mrs. Ferrars. Should she choose him I think they will be very happy."

"There is no question of that at the moment. Margaret is scarcely aware of her own regard for him. I do still worry for her, however. How do you find the gentleman?"

"He is good-humoured man and well-bred, a bit of jokester, I believe, and takes pleasure in a multitude of silly things, but I've heard no account of any serious defects in his personality."

"And what of his background?"

"His parents died when he was very young, leaving him the estate at Brightonshire. He was raised there by an aunt, who I believe managed the estate for him until very recently as he was rarely there. Much like your sister, he possessed an almost unquenchable wanderlust, but unfortunately his aunt has fallen ill, which has brought him back to England permanently."

There was nothing spectacular in Colonel Brandon's report of Lord Allstone, but there was also nothing to alleviate Elinor's concern for her sister. Margaret was wise beyond her years and quick and strong, but she had never learned to deal with matters of the heart. She witnessed once what a broken heart could do to a lively spirit. Marianne had the support of her family and her beloved colonel to help her heal. Margaret would have no one should she choose to leave England even under the strain of a failed tryst.

"Margaret has decided to stay here with Marianne and little Henry instead of leaving with me. And I know you will be absorbed by your wife and child, but would you watch Margaret for me and report any alteration in her mood or behaviour? I would normally ask this of Marianne, but I would not want to worry her at such a happy time."

"You never have to request such a thing from me, Mrs. Ferrars. I look at Margaret very much as my own sister and it would pain me to see her hurt in any way. No, you will not have to worry. Margaret will be well taken care of for the remainder of her stay at Delaford."

Elinor was pleased to hear this and wondered for a moment what she'd ever done to deserve such a family.

* * *

And so went Mr. Ferrars, Mrs. Ferrars, George, Anne, Mary, and Richard from Delaford. And then shortly after, Mrs. Dashwood. The happy party fell to only three plus baby and the household fell into a fairly normal routine, the kind of routine that had driven Margaret from England in the first place. But she found that on that occasion she was quite content to see Marianne settled into her new role as a mother. Indeed, she was built just for the task, for Marianne had the largest capacity for love of any of the three sisters.

A fortnight after her mother had gone Margaret joined her at Barton Cottage. Only days remained until the start of her next journey and she found that she had missed being home more than she anticipated.

The weather had been unforgivably wet making the journey from Delaford to Barton Cottage a slow and tiresome one. Margaret envied the gentlemen who sped past her carriage on horseback and recalled the first time she rode a horse on a man's saddle in Scotland. Ladies were less inclined to English manners in Scotland.


	7. Chapter 7

Margaret had been worried that her weeks at Barton Cottage would be tedious, but she was found comfort in the company of her mother, remembering that they had had happy times there together.

However, it was during this time that Margaret realised that her mother had been living alone all of the years she was away. She felt selfish for never thinking of it and only concerning herself with own matters.

At breakfast, she developed a scheme she was sure would be agreeable to everyone. Her mama could live with the Brandons at Delaford. They had plenty of room after all so Mrs. Dashwood would never be in the way. And surely little Henry would benefit from having his mother and grandmother with him in the house. And though Margaret had convinced herself that the arrangement would be for her mother's own good, there was the added benefit that she wouldn't have to worry about Mrs. Dashwood living in isolation while she traveled.

"Mama, why don't you live with Marianne and Colonel Brandon? I'm sure they would love to have you. I hate to think of you all alone in this cottage."

"I am not alone, my dear. I have Rose and John."

"Yes, but you don't have companionship, not really. Will you not consider my proposal?"

Mrs. Dashwood was silent for a moment before replying.

"My mother had begun to prepare me for marriage almost from my birth," she began. "She spoke of nothing other than how to be the perfect wife, because that is the only honour and security a lady could ever have. Then I became a wife, and shortly after a mother. And I loved your father. He was gentle and generous and we, the five of us, were happy at Norland. But then, suddenly, all of my security died with Mr. Dashwood and I found myself alone with three girls and meager means. But we were blessed again and your sisters were lucky in marriage and I was lucky that neither of them were taken so far from me.

"Then we were two, until you left me for Italy - which had I known what I was allowing, that that was the beginning of your endless journey and you would be out of my reach for years at a time, I would have stopped you. As it is, you were never truly happy here without your sisters and the joy you express in your letters while you are away is palpable. This brings me some comfort.

"Now with all three daughters gone and happy, I found myself alone, but also, to my surprise, content. You see, my dear, I'd never had a chance to just be Mary. And though, Margaret is at her best when she encounters snakes in the Amazon, Mary is at her best tucked safely in England near her family, but also alone in this cottage.

"Maybe one day, when I older and infirm, I will be forced to leave this place. But right now I am happy here. I hope you understand."

Margaret was content with this. She took her mother's hand and said, "Of course, I understand, Mama."

Rose entered the drawing room with the post and passed it to Mrs. Dashwood. There were but three letters. One from Mrs. Dashwood's sickly cousin in Bath, one from Anne, who had recently taken to writing to her grandmother as often as she could, and one from, "Allstone."

Margaret leaned over her mother's arm to see if she were mistaken.

"And it's addressed to you, my dear."

Margaret couldn't imagine what the message contained. Their last conversation ended in a very clear farewell. She had not planned on seeing him and she certainly had not planned on receiving letters.

"Open it," Mrs. Dashwood said anxiously. During her stay at Delaford, Allstone had made his intentions towards Margaret very clear. She'd sworn never to speak of it to Margaret herself, but she knew a proposal was soon upon them and that whatever was in that letter would lead them there. She could hardly bare the joy of her last daughter marrying and to so eligible a man. Margaret would not be able to reject him, because he countered her thoughtfulness with cleverness and that, Mrs. Dashwood knew, was something Margaret admired in him.

"It is an invitation to Brighton Manor," Margaret said.

Mrs. Dashwood, too elated to acknowledge the impropriety of an invitation being sent to her daughter instead of to the lady of the house, eagerly urged Margaret to compose a response for John to post that afternoon.

"We cannot possibly accept this invitation, Mama. Brightonshire is a day's journey away. We would have to spend at least three nights there and I've only just arrived home. Am I not allowed to enjoy my time here as it is so limited?"

"Come, come now, Meg. Were you not complaining of the monotony of this place before your arrival?"

Margaret had indeed been complaining to everyone who would listen of how loathsome it would be to spend a fortnight in her childhood home without the company of her sisters, but she was fatigued from her journey from Delaford and wanted to rest before she left for London to board a ship. In addition, her feelings toward her home had altered the moment she crossed the threshold. The peace and solitude had done wonders for the clearing of her mind. An evening with Lord Allstone would certainly reverse the effects.

But Mrs. Dashwood would not be disobeyed. She insisted that Margaret write a response and would not allow her to leave the cottage until she had done so.

* * *

Margaret spent most of her afternoon on the Downs reminiscing of her childhood thoughts and feelings. She could recall with excellent clarity how much she'd desired to see the world and how trapped she felt when her sisters were married and gone from Barton Cottage. Now she'd seen so much of the world and her desire to see more of it as strong as ever, but there was something else. Something new that was pulling on her soul. Something that made the call from outside world a little less clear, another quieter voice telling her not rush for once in her life for she might miss something great if she did.

She sat atop a hill in view of the cottage and the path that led to Barton Park. During an occasion when she lifted her head from her journal to feel the cold wind across her face she noticed a man on horseback galloping down the road towards her home. She jumped to her feet, for it must have been Edward with an invitation to dinner. She tucked her paper and pencil away and ran and tumbled merrily down the hill to meet her brother-in-law.

Only it wasn't Edward's horse, she noticed when she was close enough to distinguish dark brown from black. And the jacket the rider was wearing was much too smart for her pleasantly plain brother. No, the person who was riding toward her, she realised too late, was Lord Allstone.

"What is he doing here?" Margaret mumbled as she tried fix her hair and clothes.

She had been spotted so there was no chance for her to hide. She complained to herself of how very inconvenient it was for him to arrive when there were fresh grass stains on her clothes and mud on her hands and face.

Lord Allstone halted a few feet from her and gracefully dismounted.

"Miss Dashwood," he said. His voice was powerful, but also breathy.

"Lord Allstone," Margaret replied.

They stood in that position for at least another minute, both of them realising in the same moment how much they missed the sight of each other.

"I must apologise for my appearance," Margaret said. "I wasn't expecting visitors."

"No, you look…" He stopped and suppressed an awkward smile. He reminded himself of his manners and adjusted his posture so he was no longer leaning so much toward her.

"Please do not apologise on my account. Indeed, it is I who should apologise for the unexpected visit."

"And what brings you to Barton Cottage?" Margaret asked.

"I was at liberty today, so I rode down to call upon you and your mother."

"From Brightsonshire?"

"Yes," he said and then he quickly changed his response to, "No. I mean I have been at Barton Park visiting Sir John at his request."

"Lovely," replied Margaret who couldn't understand what business Lord Allstone could possibly have with sir John.

"Have you received my invitation to Brighton Manor?" asked Allstone after a short pause.

"We have just this morning."

"And will you attend? The Ferrarses and Brandons have also been invited." Lord Allstone tried to steady his voice has he spoke, afraid Margaret might be made aware of how eagerly he wanted to know her response.

"Oh, that is good news," Margaret replied relieved she would have the support of her family while they were in Brightonshire. "Mama and I look forward to joining you all there."

"Excellent," he replied.

He was sure Margaret would find some excuse to deny him her company. It had made him so anxious, in fact, that he invented his journey to Barton Park just to hear the response from her lips.

"There is one other thing," he said.

"Yes?"

"At Barton Park, I made a comment about your…figure."

Margaret blushed.

"I can see even now that I offended you, and I would like you to know that that was not my intention. I spoke without thinking and I must now beg your forgiveness."

That conversation had weighed heavily on Allstone. He had been excited that night, as he had been on every meeting with Margaret, and when Sir John led the conversation to a place in which Margaret might reject him, he panicked and fell onto insult to divert her mind. "It was childish of me and I am deeply ashamed."

Margaret had already learned of this flaw in Lord Allstone's character. He, so used to dominating a conversation, had difficulty continuing in one he was not leading. But she had noticed during his last days in Devonshire, that he had been actively attempting to change himself. And though Margaret did not believe he had fully accomplished his goal, she respected that he had been trying without a prompt from any person.

"I was embarrassed," Margaret replied. "But as you took pains to ask for forgiveness, I must give it to you."

Lord Allstone exhaled in relief. "I am eternally grateful."

Margaret smiled. "Good. Now that that business is done, do come inside. Mama would be delighted to see you."

"Thank you, but no. I no longer wish to intrude."

"Well, then, have a safe journey."

"I will," he replied.

Margaret watched Allstone disappear behind the hills and suppressed the urge to call after him.


	8. Chapter 8

Once again Margaret's trunk was filled and secured to one of Colonel Brandon's carriages and she and Mrs. Dashwood set off for Brighton Manor. To her dismay, both Elinor and Marianne had declined their invitations. Georgie had fallen ill and neither Marianne nor Colonel Brandon wanted to be separated from Henry for too long. Her mother's presence and cheery disposition was Margaret's only comfort as the horses were commanded to move forward.

Lord Allstone, unable to be still since his trip to Barton Cottage, spent much of the day of Margaret's arrival riding through Brightonshire at the request of his butler, Roberts. Allstone had been storming through the house the night before worrying the servants over food preparations and furniture arrangements causing delays in productivity, which Roberts could no longer allow.

Roberts had never known any Allstone to be fastidious over household matters in the decades he'd run Brighton Manor. Indeed, the Allstones were great travelers only known to be home during the summer months. Lord Allstone followed the path of his parents even though they had not been there to lead him. However, the illness of his aunt, Lady Catherine, called him home to England and the severity of that illness begged him to root himself in Brightonshire. And to root himself, he needed a wife.

East of Brightonshire, off the coast, stood Castle Clare where the Maxwells had resided for three centuries. The oldest and most distinguished family in Brightonshire, a connection to the Maxwells was sought by almost every person of English society. Lord Clare was fifth in line to the throne and he had but one daughter, Miss Mary Maxwell. Lady Catherine had worked tirelessly during her nephews childhood to maintain a relationship between him and Miss Maxwell in the hopes that an alliance would finally be made between her family and the great family of Castle Clare.

When Allstone returned home from his stay in Delaford to tell his aunt that he wanted to host a small party within the month, she was delighted. She was sure her nephew was finally ready to settle and propose to Miss Maxwell. She talked of little else for the weeks leading up to the occasion. And the small party Allstone had intended turned quickly into a grand event.

Roberts watched the misunderstanding develop between his master and Lady Catherine and tried very ardently to help Allstone understand that his aunt's excitement was over Miss Maxwell and not Miss Dashwood. He also tried to help Lady Catherine understand that Allstone's anxiousness wasn't due to the anticipation of Miss Maxwell's arrival, but of how large and intricate the party had become. Roberts knew Allstone disliked unnecessarily large gatherings and he also knew that Lady Catherine knew nothing of Miss Dashwood.

But when neither of them could see the other's point of view, Roberts could only continue to watch and perform his duties.

"What do you think, Roberts? Will she have me?"

Roberts had been spending an unusually long time attending Allstone while he dressed. Guests would be arriving soon and Roberts needed to be at the entrance when they did.

"Are we referring to Miss Maxwell?" asked Roberts.

"You know very well I'm referring to Miss Dashwood."

Roberts finished removing the lint from Allstone's jacket. "Miss Maxwell will have you today, sir."

"But what of Miss Dashwood?"

Roberts exited Allstone's chambers without a response. He had no more time for such silliness.

"Insufferable man," Allstone said to himself before examining his appearance one last time in the looking glass.

* * *

Allstone joined his aunt near the fire in wait of their guests. Five parties came ahead Miss Maxwell and Lady Catherine could not conceal her preference for her latest arrivals. Lord Maxwell and his daughter were attended to immediately. Guests seated in the most comfortable chairs were politely asked to relinquish their seats to the more distinguished of the party.

As the group began to form a circle around the Maxwells, Allstone moved to look out of the furthest window worried Margaret wouldn't come. Though he knew her mother would not allow her to insult his aunt, Margaret was clever. If she desired to stay away badly enough, she would find some reason to do so.

Three more parties arrived before finally, Roberts announced Mrs. Dashwood of Barton Cottage and her daughter.

Absolutely no one had heard of a Mrs. Dashwood. And had Roberts announced a cottage? Surely, this was a mistake. And just as the guests were preparing to redirect their energies to the more important people, Allstone rushed to the door to kiss the hand of Mrs. Dashwood. All eyes followed them.

"Dear Mrs. Dashwood," said Allstone. He could hardly contain himself.

"Lord Allstone," said Mrs. Dashwood and Margaret together.

"You look lovely," he replied. "How was your journey?"

"Quite easy," said Mrs. Dashwood. "But forgive us, we did not realize we would be late."

"Nonsense," he said leading the ladies into the room.

Margaret was beside herself with anxiety. She had been led directly into the very parts of society she could not stand. She could feel disdain from every part of the room, each person wondering how a person of such a low station could be invited to an elegant affair. People whispered her name as she passed gossiping, Margaret knew, of her background and of her mother and of her connections. A few ladies seated near the fire laughed when her back was to them. Gentlemen stared with impunity. Margaret wished to be anywhere on earth than under the condescending gaze of her peers.

Allstone was aware of how uncomfortable Margaret would be when he realized the how many people had been invited. He'd seen her spirit sink in similar situations in Delaford. He was prepared for this and arranged her seat at the dinner table to be as close to her mother and the door as possible.

"Aunt," Allstone said releasing Mrs. Dashwood's hand. "May I introduce Mrs. Mary Dashwood and her daughter Miss Margaret Dashwood. Ladies, my aunt, Lady Catherine of Havonshire."

Mrs. and Miss Dashwood curtsied before their host.

"Charmed," Lady Catherine replied. "Dashwood, did you say? Any connection to the Dashwoods of Norland Park?"

"Yes, my lady," Mrs. Dashwood replied. "I am the late Henry Dashwood's wife."

"Ah, yes," said Lady Catherine. "Your daughter is mistress of Delaford."

Mrs. Dashwood acknowledged that she was correct as the lady's eyes moved to Margaret.

"Miss Dashwood."

Margaret managed a smile. "Yes, madam."

Lady Catherine looked at Allstone whose eyes had been on Margaret from the moment she entered the room. Then she looked at Miss Maxwell who too had been watching the change in Allstone when the Dashwoods arrived.

"Roberts!" called Lady Catherine.

Roberts entered the ballroom and bowed. "Dinner is served."


	9. Chapter 9

Mary Maxwell was only seventeen years old but she had the all of the elegance of a woman twice her age. She wore the finest garments in the newest fashions. Her hair was pinned neatly to her head, allowing only one or two curls to fall. Her laugh was infectious and her smile was heavenly. She talked of food and clothes and music and furniture. She smelled of roses and she moved like air. She spoke French perfectly and demanded the attention of every person who was in her presence. And no one, not even Margaret, could deny her.

"Miss Dashwood," Miss Maxwell said as the party entered the breakfast room the next morning. She looped her arm through Margaret's and led her to the end of the table farthest from the door. "My dear Papa is feeling a bit weary this morning and won't be joining us. Do be my companion today."

Margaret forced herself to smile. "I'm not sure I'd make the best companion."

"But of course, you will be. You've traveled to more places than most of the gentlemen present. You must have fascinating stories."

Margaret reluctantly took her place at Miss Maxwell's side. Her mother, seated near Lady Catherine at the head of the table, watched Margaret carefully. She worried for her daughter, who had spent the night in tears, because she felt like a fool amongst Allstone's friends. Of course, Margaret did not admit to crying, because admitting to those feelings would force her to admit to her regard for Lord Allstone.

"Are you enjoying your stay here, Miss Dashwood?" asked Mr. Ashby, a relation of Lady Catherine.

"I am, sir. Thank you."

"And how was your journey from, oh, pardon me, where do you reside?" Miss Maxwell asked.

"Barton Cottage in Devonshire," Mrs. Dashwood replied. "It is a lovely place to live."

"Yes," Lady Catherine said, "But small, I daresay."

"There is only the two of us. And then only me as Margaret is gone most of time. And with my other two daughters married, I no longer have use for a grand…"

"I understand, but I could never live in such conditions."

"Oh no, Lady Catherine, your health would not permit it," Miss Maxwell added.

"I disagree, Aunt," Allstone interjected. "You would benefit from the sea air and cozy quarters, so easily warmed and free from drafts."

"Indeed," Mrs. Dashwood agreed.

"But since Miss Dashwood is away so often she isn't able to experience that coziness, is she?" said Miss Maxwell.

Margaret placed her fork and knife near her plate. She could see where the conversation was headed and if her hands began to shake from frustration she didn't want any person at the table to notice.

"I did grow up there, Miss Maxwell."

"I wonder how you could leave such a place then. There are so many wonderful things in England for a young lady."

"Music," a lady to the right of Miss Maxwell cried. She was Miss Grey, a cousin of Miss Maxwell.

"Art," Mrs. Ashby declared.

"Food," said a portly cousin of Allstone's.

"Literature," Miss Maxwell added.

Margaret inhaled slowly. She remembered Allstone had told her that her secret was no longer a secret.

"All of those things are found abroad, Mary, and in greater variety," Allstone said. "I believe Margaret made a sensible decision by leaving."

"Sensible? How is a young lady traveling so extensively sensible?" Lady Catherine said.

"And alone and without a husband," said Miss Maxwell.

Margaret pressed her lips together. She was so old and so unmarried that she knew that someone would want to know how it happened. The great question of how a lady could let herself become an old maid always befell her.

Before she could reply, Allstone stood. "I say, Ashby, you challenged me to a horse race last night."

Lady Catherine put up her hand to protest. "Please, Alexander we are in the middle of a conversation."

"Oh, a race! What fun!" Miss Grey said. "Oh, do have race, Mr. Ashby."

"And Wallis should ride as well," Ashby said standing.

"I shall," said the portly gentlemen.

"Then it is settled," Allstone said. "Roberts, ready the horses."

"Yes, sir." Roberts disappeared.

Allstone pointed to a tree growing near the hedges of Brighton Manor. "We'll start there and there the ladies can watch."

Everyone gleefully finished their breakfast in anticipation of their new diversion. Mrs. Dashwood waited to take her daughters arm and they left the room slowly letting the others get ahead of them.

Before he left for the stables, Allstone looked back at Margaret. She nodded her head to him and smiled, grateful he found a way of protecting her from Miss Maxwell and his aunt. He returned the smile with a grin so wide the skin around his cheeks crinkled.

Neither Mrs. Dashwood nor Lady Catherine missed this exchange.

"Lovely, man," Mrs. Dashwood said to Margaret just loud enough for Lady Catherine to hear her.

* * *

"I would absolutely die if I were five and twenty and unmarried," Miss Maxwell confided in her friend Mrs. Ashby as they watched Margaret and Mrs. Dashwood take a place to view the race.

"She is a lost cause, I daresay," replied Mrs. Ashby.

"Indeed, Allstone seems interested in her." Allstone kissed Margaret's hand before mounting his horse and Margaret showed no signs of embarrassment at the overt display of affection.

"Interest? I think not. He may feel sorry for her and her mother who live in such reduced circumstances."

Miss Maxwell was unconvinced. She and Allstone had been intended for marriage since her birth and she had never seen him so animated as he was in the company of Miss Dashwood.

"Then what is she doing here?" Miss Maxwell asked. "You don't invite people to your home when you feel sorry for them."

"Her sister is Mrs. Brandon. That is a wonderful connection to maintain."

"I see nothing so great in the Brandons," Miss Maxwell replied. "There house and property are small for a man in his position. And, if they are so great, why are they not here? No, Mrs. Ashby. I do not like it."

"Pray do not concern yourself with a matter so trivial as Miss Dashwood. She is a nobody. You cannot possibly be worried that he will marry her."

It was true. The Allstones had been strategically marrying for centuries to get closer to the Maxwells. And now, it was finally their time.

"I believe you are right, my dear," Miss Maxwell said. "He wouldn't abandon family duty for anything."

"And more," Mrs. Ashby said. "He has the deepest regard for you."

Of this, Miss Maxwell was unsure, but she retired her vexations and resolved to fix the problem herself. She may not have been certain of Allstone's intentions, but she knew someone like Miss Dashwood would never refuse him if given the opportunity. If she put an end to _her_ hopes, the matter would no longer matter.

"Gentlemen, on your marks," Miss Grey yelled.

Everyone fell silent for the second before Miss Grey cried, "Go!"

The men were off. The ladies cheered.

They raced through the park of Brighton Manor to the edge of the forest that separated the property from the nearest farm.

Mr. Wallis, to the surprise of everyone, was in the lead for much of the race, but coming out of the turn he was overtaken by the other two gentlemen who remained near each other for some time. Over a small pond Allstone's horse leapt first and he took the lead for only a moment before Mr. Ashby came ahead.

But Margaret saw none of this, for she saw the reason Mr. Wallis had fallen so far behind. His horse had been startled by something and jumped so high that rider flew off of him. Mr. Wallis had fallen hard to the ground and Margaret couldn't see from where she'd been standing, but she thought the horse might have trampled him.

She raced toward the forest followed by a young footman who had also seen what happened to Mr. Wallis.

Margaret told the footman to secure the horse as he sped past her and that she would attend the injured gentlemen.

Allstone halted his gallop the moment he saw Margaret and watched her and the footman to understand why they'd both suddenly taken off running. When he saw Mr. Wallis on the ground, he turned his horse around and hurried to him.

The ladies cheered as Mr. Ashby won, but he could only enjoy his victory for a short time, because Allstone was calling for him urgently.

"What's happened?" Lady Catherine said in a panic.

"Margaret!" Mrs. Dashwood called after her daughter but she was too far to hear.

"You," Allstone said to the footman, "Ride the horse into town and find the doctor immediately!"

The footman obeyed and quickly disappeared into the forest.

By this time most of the party was close enough to see Allstone and Margaret kneeling over Mr. Wallis.

"The bleeding is bad," Margaret said as she tore the hem of her dress. "But he is breathing." She handed the cloth to Allstone. "Tie this around the bottom his leg as tight as you can."

Allstone did as he was told without question.

"Margaret! Come away!" Mrs. Dashwood called.

"It's okay, Mama," Margaret replied. "I've seen this before."

"Really?" Allstone said as Margaret ripped her frock a second and then a third time.

"Where?" Mr. Ashby, who had just joined them and at a safe distance, asked.

"In the Americas," Margaret replied. "A man I knew broke his leg after falling from a cliff."

She found two large and sturdy sticks and handed them and the remaining cloth to Allstone. "Place the sticks on either side of his leg. Firmly secure them and keep him still if he wakes."

Margaret took the reigns of Allstone's horse and climbed onto his back.

"He doesn't like strangers," Allstone said, but Margaret had already turned and headed back toward the house.

"Well, I've never seen such a thing in my entire life," Lady Catherine declared as Margaret expertly galloped to quickly get the help of any man remaining in the house to carry Mr. Wallis.


	10. Chapter 10

If there had been any uncertainty in Allstone's regard for Margaret before Wallis's accident, he no longer found a trace of it in any part of his soul. Lady Catherine was not pleased when Allstone finally made clear his intentions, but after observing Miss Dashwood and after learning of her nature from her mother, Lady Catherine knew Margaret was too much of her own mind for marriage. She could see, however, that Margaret did care for her nephew, but after the ghastly show she put on during Wallis's accident, Lady Catherine knew there was no way such a determined creature would ever be tamed.

Miss Maxwell felt differently. Margaret was unlike any woman she had come across in her life and Allstone was not the average gentleman. She feared that he would find Margaret's unconventionally gallant behaviour charming and exciting. Of course, no one could avoid excitement after the events of that day, but this did not put Miss Maxwell's mind at ease. Allstone needed to understand that Margaret would never fit in to his world and that understanding began with turning the minds of his guests against Miss Dashwood.

In the drawing room, before dinner, Miss Maxwell, along with Mrs. Ashby and Miss Grey, led the other ladies of the party in the disapproval of Margaret.

"Did you see the way she ripped her hem?

"She mounted a horse with no assistance and without a side saddle."

"Blood covered her sleeves and she barely noticed."

"She is little more than a savage, is she not?"

Across the room, however, against Miss Maxwell's plans, Ashby led the gentlemen in praising Margaret for her quick actions even though she did step outside of the bounds of a lady's place.

The Dashwoods remained in their room until the last possible moment to join the rest of the party. They knew there would be gossip and possibly ridicule and wanted to avoid as much of it as they could.

Allstone waited until the doctor left Wallis to join his guests in the drawing room. He was the last of the party to arrive excluding the Dashwoods.

"Allstone," Lord Maxwell's deep and hearty voice called as he entered. "How does Wallis do?"

"He is sleeping," Allstone replied, "But the doctor said he should be awake by morning. He expects him to recover quickly."

"Thanks to Miss Dashwood from the sound of it," Lord Maxwell declared. "I am sorry I was not there to witness it."

"Indeed, Papa," Miss Maxwell said before any of the other gentlemen could begin again their praises for Margaret, "It was quite a sight. I do worry for Wallis, however. Miss Dashwood is no doctor and she's probably done more damage than the horse. She was very lucky Wallis sustained no injury besides his leg."

"I wonder, Miss Maxwell, how you could know of any damage Miss Dashwood inflicted as you are no more a doctor than she is," Allstone said, his voice low and heavy.

"I'm only saying that a lady must never behave in such a manner. In this instance, it was quite dangerous and not to mention uncomely."

The ladies surrounding Miss Maxwell agreed with fervour.

Before Allstone could respond Mrs. Dashwood entered, followed by Miss Dashwood, and then Roberts, who announced dinner.

Miss Maxwell rushed to Margaret's side and took her arm in the same manner she'd taken it that morning at breakfast.

"I hope you are quite well, Miss Dashwood," she said as the party walked through to the dining room.

"I am, thank you," Margaret said.

"Not at all fatigued, I hope, from such an eventful day."

"I am not, but I'm afraid Mama is, however," Margaret replied. "We plan to leave in the morning."

Miss Maxwell gasped. "Oh, Miss Dashwood, you mustn't go."

Miss Grey, who had been following close behind added, "We do not leave for another two days. You must stay at least that long."

"You must," Miss Maxwell agreed. "Mrs. Dashwood wouldn't mind taking the journey back to Barton Cottage alone, would you Mrs. Dashwood?"

Mrs. Dashwood was not tired, quite the opposite. She felt invigorated after seeing how well Margaret handled a difficult situation. Before then, she worried endlessly during the days between letters from Margaret, afraid she'd fallen into some misfortune. Now, she truly understood that Margaret was capable of taking care of herself.

Margaret had invented her mother's fatigue as an excuse to leave before she embarrassed herself any further. She should have never gone to Brightonshire. Even if it would've been rude to stay away, and even if her mother insisted, she should have remained safely tucked away from society until she could be free of England again.

Margaret answered for her mother. "I would not feel comfortable if she were alone."

Allstone had been listening to every word of the conversation and was disheartened to learn Margaret was planning on leaving early.

"Further," Margaret continued as she took her place at the table, "I must prepare for my own journey. I leave in a little less than a week."

"Well, that is lovely news," Miss Maxwell replied. "Did you hear that Allstone?"

Allstone nodded. He'd known for some time that Margaret had plans to leave. He'd hoped her stay at Brighton Manor would ease her into the idea of staying in England, but he was afraid his relations may have reaffirmed that she must do everything in her power to be out of the country.

"Where will you go, Miss Dashwood?" Mrs. Ashby asked.

"India," Margaret replied.

The word sent the room spinning into how unsuitable India was for any Englishman that was not in the military. Though annoyed the party was so against her plans, Margaret felt relieved that the attention was no longer on herself, but on the jungles of the place to which she planned to travel.

Margaret chanced a look at Allstone, who had been engrossed in conversation with Lord Maxwell. Miss Maxwell noticed and immediately grabbed Margaret's attention.

Miss Maxwell engineered the conversation for the remainder of dinner, steering it to subjects of which she knew she was an expert and of which Margaret would be ignorant. And, certainly, the table was enthralled by her charms, for Miss Maxwell was all charm and grace when it suited her. But, no matter how hard she tried Margaret remained unmoved. She only politely responded when she had to and never became flustered. Miss Maxwell hadn't anticipated this strength in character and she was thoroughly irritated by it.

* * *

After dinner, the gentlemen remained in the dining room and the ladies retired to the drawing room. Margaret made her excuses, left her mother with Lady Catherine, and made her exit. She'd had enough politeness to last her for years in the one day she had spent in Brightonshire and she was reminded why she boarded her first ship without any hesitation.

She began to ascend the staircase, when she heard someone call her.

"Lord Allstone," she replied.

"I thought I'd find you escaping."

"I do apologise, sir. I'm not feeling my best and…"

"There's no need for that," he said. "I know you are well. You've just had more than your share of my family and friends."

She laughed. "I'm sorry I am not good company."

He nodded. "It was a mistake to ask you here."

"A mistake?"

"Yes," Allstone said. "Your family made me feel so welcomed at Delaford. And, forgive me if I am mistaken, but you were happy there."

"You are not mistaken. I love my family very much and I am happy you were comfortable there."

Allstone closed the gap between the two of them so, if he dared, he could reach out and take her hand.

"I endeavoured to recreate that experience here. I wanted you to see that you could have that same happiness in Brighton Manor, but I'm afraid my relations do not benefit from the same openness of spirit as yours do. So, the mistake wasn't in your being here. Indeed, your place on any part of this earth is never a mistake. No, the error is in the situation I created without considering the possible, negative outcome. The error was in my blind eagerness to have you with me again."

Margaret had been too preoccupied with trying maintain her manners to realise that there was an underlying reason for her invitation - her personal invitation - to Brighton Manor. Had she not been focused on everyone else and her own fears and her own insecurities, she might have seen Allstone invented the entire party for her.

"You are aware that I will leave for India. There is nothing that will stop me."

He smiled. "I am, but I will not be deterred."

"My lord." Roberts appeared from the shadows. "You are wanted in the dining room."

"Thank you, Roberts."

Allstone turned back to Margaret, whose face had become flushed.

"I was born late in the year," Allstone said, "So I was always a little smaller than my companions. My aunt tells me that is why I'm always prepared to fight for what I want."

"What you want," Margaret replied, "May be unsuitable for a man in your position. Other things are better groomed and more polished and younger. You should consider your options carefully before making a rash decision."

Allstone was strangely pleased with this response. He knew Margaret well enough to know that if she wanted to reject him, she would have done so immediately.

"As the great Mayhew Dishworth has written, 'A decision, I must make, so I choose the journey to the treasure. For, even though it will be arduous and I am likely to perish, to remain in my current place would produce no happiness. And to not live life in the pursuit of happiness is the only true failure.'"

Margaret felt her heart leap after her hearing her words come from his mouth, but she did her best to not outwardly show her feelings.

"Pray, in which year were you born so late?"

Allstone bowed. "The answer to your real question, I believe, is yes. You are older than even I am. Now please excuse me, Miss Dashwood. Enjoy the rest of your evening."

Margaret stood alone in the corridor for longer than she should have thinking about what Edward had said to her that first night in Delaford. She would remember to thank him in her next letter to the Ferrarses.


	11. Chapter 11

_April 3, 1805_

_Dear Marianne,_

_At last, I am arrived to India at the port of the East India Company. Sir John's cousin has been a most gracious host and I must say I am sad to leave her here. The journey to Lahore will be difficult and she, on many occasions, warned me against it, but I am determined I will go. I will travel with group, so please do not concern yourself with my safety._

_As to the other matter, no, Allstone did not propose marriage, so I could not have rejected him as Mama has told you. I can say that I would have declined the offer had he made one and I believe that is the reason no such conversation was had between us. And now I am intrigued. Could he understand me so well? How could he know that by not asking he has forced me to consider my own feelings even though I vowed never to love any man? Before I met him I was certain that a romantic attachment would be the end of my freedom. Is it possible that freedom and love can exist together?_

_In regards to my own feelings, I understand now that I do love him. I could not recognise it before since I always imagined love to only be the way you and Elinor experience it: a time to settle into one's position in society. But I find his confidence in himself and in my ability to understand myself attractive. I can see myself as his life long companion, should his feelings remain unchanged when I return to England._

_However, I cannot name a date for my return. I will be here at least a year and after I've left India, I will return to Italy. Nor can I promise that my letters will be frequent. I can only send post to England when an East India Company ships returns there._

_Give Henry all of my love. _

_I miss you._

_Love,_

_Margaret Dashwood_


End file.
